


House of Chillies

by Crollalanza



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 21:23:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3624747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crollalanza/pseuds/Crollalanza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroo believes in Fate, Daichi doesn’t. At least he hopes he doesn’t because when Suga meets the perfect guy, (thanks to Kuroo) Daichi feels his chance has gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	House of Chillies

**Author's Note:**

> My first AU - eeeeeeee.
> 
> Okay, this was written for the 30dayhqwriting challenge on tumblr. The theme was Spring Break and the prompt cliches. 
> 
> I have been inspired (cough borrowed cough) a lot of this plot from an episode of Friends. My feelings about soul mates are similar to Monica Geller's (and Daichi's). I hope this doesn't offend anyone.

“Red String of Fate.”

“What?” Daichi stopped mopping the floor and shook his head at Kuroo.

“Red String of Fate. I read a story about it once.”  He tied up the rubbish bag, hoisted it over his shoulder, and strolled to the back door.

Daichi yawned and resumed mopping. “We’ve all heard that story, Kuroo. Why are you mentioning it now?”

“Interested, that’s all. Like ...” He threw the rubbish sack out into the yard, and slammed the door before replying, “Soul mates. The idea that you’re predestined to meet the love of your life. Kinda cool, don’t you think?”

“You believe in all that?” He straightened up and rubbed his lower back.

Kuroo screwed up his nose. “Why not?”

“You must have a lot of strings round your finger,” Daichi replied, snorting. “You’re always coming in here saying you’ve met someone new – someone important.”

“Yep, and that’s where I’ve been going wrong,” Kuroo explained, and held up the little finger of his left hand, crooking it towards Daichi. “I’m gonna sit back and just reel whoever in.”

“You talk so much bollocks,” Daichi said. “Are you really saying you think there’s only one person out there that can make you happy?”

“It’s not just about being happy.”

“Huh?” They turned their heads, surprised because both of them had forgotten that Yachi was still there.

“Destiny. Finding your other half,” she said, and caught between dreams and sadness, she sighed as she belted up her coat. “It’s much more that you _can’t_ be without them.”

“But, what if you find them, and they get hit by a car a week later?” Daichi protested. “Are you supposed to be miserable for the rest of your life?”

“In that lifetime, maybe,” Yachi replied. “But the next time, you might end up having a long and prosperous life together.”

“There you go, Kuroo,” Daichi cheered. “In your next life you’ll come back as a cockroach and meet the love of your life scuttling across the kitchen floor.”

Kuroo picked up a cloth and started to wipe down the surfaces, the last job of the day. “You’re a cynic, Sawamura. Maybe that’s why your love life’s so crap.”

Seeing Yachi’s reproachful look, Daichi bit back his response that it was still a load of rubbish, that soul mates, red strings of fate and Destiny simply didn’t exist. Because for all he knew, Yachi and Kuroo could have been right.

His love life was crap, after all. Fucking crap.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. But after a failed hook up in a club (a club he’d only gone to because Kuroo said it was a bar and swore he wouldn’t have to dance) and a disastrous speed dating event, Daichi less and less proactive in trying to find that special someone, deciding to devote himself to studying, and shifts in the cafe to pay for said studies.

At least that’s what he told himself. But he couldn’t stop his heart from thumping some odd out of rhythm beat when one of their regulars walked in.

 

***

“Good Morning, Yacchan!” came the voice. “Have I ever told you how much your smile lights up my day?”

Daichi was under the counter, fetching more wooden spills when he heard him. His fingers suddenly thickened until they were the size of elephant’s feet, making it impossible to tear the plastic packet open.

“Good morning to you, Suga-san,” she trilled. “Your usual?”

“Uhm.”

Daichi could picture the customer considering, his face tilted to one side as he perused the menu.

“I still don’t know what my usual is, Yacchan, so today I’ll try ... a Skinny Latte, flavoured with ... um ... the no-sugar cinnamon syrup.”

“Don’t tell me you’re watching the calories, Kenzo,” Kuroo questioned from over the counter. Daichi looked up from the floor to see him reaching for a paper cup.

_Damn, I was going to serve him._

“Not Kenzo,” Suga said, and laughed.

“Damn it! One of these days I’ll guess right, Kuni.” He smirked then bent down to the floor. “Yo, Sawamura, you stayin’ down there all day?”

“Thank you, so much,” he muttered, and resisting the urge to shove the wooden stirrers up Kuroo’s stirring arse, Daichi got to his feet.

“Another shift, Daichi?” Suga greeted him. “Thought you had college on Monday.”

“Uh ... well, it’s Spring Break, so ... um...” He tried a smile, then thought better of it, because the last time he’d smiled at Suga-san, Kuroo had told him he looked as if he’d been whacked on the head with a volleyball.

“Ah, taking the opportunity to earn some extra money. Good idea,” Suga mused and winked at him. “But make sure you take some time to play, too, won’t you?”

Daichi felt his spine quiver a little at that wink. Sure, Sugawara-san winked at everyone, and he smiled too, but there was always the thought that maybe that wink, the one where the mole under his eye seemed to flirt, was just for him.

“One skinny latte with no-sugar cinnamon syrup!” Kuroo declared, placing the cup on the counter top, as he reached for a lid. “What name shall I write on this? How about Kiki?”

“Oh... actually, I think I’ll stay inside today,” Suga replied, ignoring Kuroo’s new attempt at guessing his name. “I have my laptop, so I’ll sit in the corner this morning and catch up on some editing.”

“Sure, no problem,” Kuroo said, and swiftly decanted the coffee into a large china cup. “Let me know when you want a refill, okay?”

“Will do,” he replied, and flashed Kuroo another smile.

Settling himself in a corner away from the window, Suga set the coffee on the table and pulled out his laptop. Soon he was tapping away, sipping coffee as he made his edits. He was a regular customer, for as long as Daichi had been there, coming in for his caffeine fix and a poppy seed lemon drizzle muffin two afternoons a week. Daichi had never seen him at the cafe in the mornings, but as he only worked the occasional shift at that time of the day, that wasn’t altogether surprising.

“Wonder if he’ll ever write a review of us,” Yachi murmured, and rather self-consciously straightened her apron and retied the bow keeping her hair off her face.

“He’s a restaurant critic and this is a coffee shop,” Daichi replied. “Okay, it’s a decent coffee shop and not one of those conglomerate chains, but I doubt Sugawara-san’s editor wants cafe reviews.”

“Holy-Moroly!” exclaimed Kuroo, and slapped his head. “Red String of Fate,  I knew it!”

Sighing wearily (he’d got used to Kuroo’s sudden enthusiasms, but it didn’t stop the irritation at times) Daichi rearranged the muffins – especially the poppy seed lemon drizzle ones, and refused to rise to the bait.

“Yachi!” Kuroo hollered. “Who always comes in on a Monday morning?”

“Hmm? Oh ... uh ...”

“On his way back from the early morning fish markets?”

Her face wreathed with a huge smile, Yachi jumped in the air, hugging her arms across her chest. “Yaku- san! And he’s back from holiday, too!”

“Who?” Daichi asked, and shook his head, not sure he was capable of dealing with their strange conversations today.

“Gah, I keep forgetting you don’t work Monday mornings,” Kuroo replied. “You miss the delight that is Yaks struggling to get it together before we hand him his coffee.”

“Yaks?”

“Uh-huh, and ...” Kuroo trailed off, his attention now on the large glass doors at the front of the cafe. “Here he comes.”

Still not sure what was so momentous about the guy and why Yachi was now giggling, Daichi stopped what he was doing and watched the door.

A man walked in. A short man. A short man with light brown hair, a rather tired smile on his face, and round, brown eyes. For someone who’d just come back from holiday, he didn’t look very brown, but then he had the type of skin that probably burned, Daichi found himself thinking, so maybe he’d gone somewhere cold.

“Yaku-san!” Yachi squealed. “How lovely to see you. Was your holiday good?”

“Uh ... yeah, great, thank you,” he muttered, and yawned. “Think I need another break to recover, though.” He raised his hand to Kuroo, and smiled at Daichi. “I’d like an Americano, please ... no ... hold on, let’s try something different.”

Kuroo licked his lips. “What about a Skinny Latte with no-sugar cinnamon syrup?”

“Sounds good,” Yaku agreed and nodded.

“You take a seat and I’ll bring it to ya, Yaks.”

“Thanks.”

“Told ya,” Kuroo murmured to Daichi, as Yaku stepped towards the table almost in the corner. The table next to the one where Suga was sitting. “Red String of Fate. Aa-and, even better, he doesn’t smell.”

“Smell?”

“Sure. Yaks always comes back from the fish market on a Monday, so he smells a bit, but ... uh ... he must have changed ‘cause his clothes aren’t as scruffy as usual. Kinda screams Fate to me.”

Bewildered, Daichi shook his head. Deciding there was some important cleaning to do, he picked up a wodge of kitchen roll, and started to rub at a smudge on the glass top, concentrating exceptionally hard and definitely not glancing across to the two tables in the corner.

“Poppy seed lemon drizzle muffins!” Yachi whispered, her eyes alight.

“Of-fuckin’ course!” Kuroo hissed. “Sawamura, pick two muffins and bring ‘em across.”

“I’m busy, and ... what? Why?”

“You’re about to see two destinies collide, Sawamura, with muffins as the catalyst.”

Swearing under his breath, Daichi did as he was told. Technically, Kuroo was his boss because he was a full time employee (although their actual boss, Shimizu-san, had let Daichi know that she trusted him far above the others and if he ever wanted to throw in his studies, she’d employ him as manager straight away for the other cafe) so short of outright refusing, there wasn’t anything he could do. Besides, if he did say no, then Kuroo would bug him about it, so it was best to get it over and done with.

“Gentlemen!” Kuroo said, wandering over to the tables carrying Yaku’s coffee. “Cafe Kiyoko’s two favourite customers.”

“What d’you want, Kuroo?” Yaku asked, flicking his eyes up from the paper he was reading.

“I brought your coffee, Yaks,” Kuroo said, pulling his best ‘hurt’ face.

“Mmm, so I see.”

“And Sawamura’s brought you both muffins,” Kuroo continued. Placing the coffee in front of Yaku, he stood between the tables, forcing Yaku to turn his head.

Daichi watched on as Suga caught Yaku’s eye.

And smiled.

“Poppy seed lemon drizzle muffins. On the house!” Kuroo declared, with much fanfare. “’Cause they’re your favourite, aren’t they Yaks? And yours too, Kevin.”

“Kevin?” Suga started to laugh. “Where did you get that from?”

“You look kinda European. Don’t you agree with me, Sawamura? You too, Yaks. Don’t you think Sugawara looks kinda exotic? Kevin’s a foreign name,” he finished knowledgeably.

“My name isn’t Kevin,” Suga whispered to Yaku. “Kuroo’s been trying to guess ever since he saw the initial on my laptop case.”

“Don’t tell him,” Yaku said, scowling up at Kuroo, but there was a smile on his lips too. “I’m Yaku Morisuke, but as soon as he found that out, he insisted on calling me Suki for a month.” He paused and sipped some of his coffee. “Shouting it across the cafe. Scrawling it on my coffee cup if I came in for a take-out. Oh, and he kept writing it in caramel on the top of my Americano.”

“How did you get him to stop?” Daichi blurted out because as far as he knew the only way to shut Kuroo up was to wait for him to get bored.

“He threatened to find another cafe,” Kuroo said sadly. “Yacchan’s heart was broken, and Shimizu-san said she’d cut my shifts, so we reached a compromise.”

“He calls me Yaks,” Yaku explained, “and they had a staff party at my restaurant.” His eyes swivelled to Daichi. “I don’t remember you being there. Are you new?”

“Uhm, not really. I’ve been here about eight months. It was exam time, I think.”

“Daichi’s going to be a high flying lawyer,” Suga put in, giving him the sort of smile that made Daichi’s insides liquefy. But then they solidified as Suga turned that same headlight of a smile onto Yaku. “You have a restaurant?”

“Mmm,” Yaku nodded and started to pick at his muffin. “It’s kind of a sushi bar. Well, it’s like a fusion of sushi and Mexican food.”

“Morrito’s?”Suga demanded, and when Yaku nodded, he squealed. “I’ve been there!  Oh, yes, it’s amazing. I love your food. How’s business?”

“Mm, it’s good, thank you,” Yaku replied, and turned his chair right round so he was practically sitting opposite Suga. “It was slow to start with, but we had a critic in, and he gave us this amazing review so ... Oh....” He started to laugh. “That’s you, isn’t it?  Sugawara, yes?  I recognise you by your by-line photo. Thank you very much. It’s all down to your review that I was able to afford a holiday this year.”

“Absolute pleasure. Your food is incredible. The kick you give. Oh, I really loved the mix of spices.” He glanced up at Daichi. “Honestly, you missed a treat not going there. You should try it.”

“HA!”  Kuroo nudged Daichi and clutched his stomach. “This guy can’t take anything spicier than vanilla. He’s like a baby. Those poppy seeds would blow his head off.”

“You don’t like spicy food?” Suga looked, there was only one word for it, amused, his eyebrows high on his forehead, while his lips were desperately trying not to smirk. “I love it. There’s nothing quite like that first bite-”

“The anticipation, not knowing if it’s going to burn or disappear as soon as it touches your tongue,” Yaku put it. “You know, when I go away, I don’t choose beaches or entertainment, I look for restaurants, or local food markets.”

“Me too!” Suga’s face was alight with excitement. “I’m so boring because it’s my job, too, but there’s something about ... yeah ... It’s just like you said, Yaku-san, it’s the anticipation I love.”

“Chilli picking! That’s what I’d like to do. Smelling them freshly off the vine.”

“Chopping them on a wooden board. Not one of those plastic things. All that smell and oil diffusing into the air,” Suga’s eyes were lidded and dreamy. “Gods, I have chilli peppers hanging from my kitchen ceiling, but given the chance, I’d have them everywhere.”

Yaku nodded. “Uh-huh. Curtains of Jalapeño.”

“Filius Blue carpets.”

“Fetali walls!”

“Oh, yes. A house of chillies. That’s my dream home,” Suga said, and sighed even as he giggled.

As Yaku gave up all pretence that he was sitting at a different table, and Suga closed his laptop to continue their conversation, Daichi slunk away.

He passed the next hour and fourteen minutes cleaning, serving, getting on with things, and not looking over at two – no, one – table in the corner where two people were engrossed in conversation. He scrubbed counters, rearranged pastries, prepared coffee and took chocolate muffins out of the oven. He worked and shut out Yachi and Kuroo’s constant chatter, their ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ as they kept up a running commentary on their fated lovers, soul mates, partners-tied-by-invisible-thread, or whatever.

It was only when he heard Kuroo shout a gloating ‘Bye, Yaks.’ that Daichi finally felt some of the load that was pressing on his shoulders lessen. Not by much, because Kuroo and Yachi were still winking at each other, and Suga looked much happier than he had when he walked in. (How that was possible, Daichi didn’t know, because Suga never failed to look happy, but, yeah, he looked brighter somehow).

“Hey, misery-guts. Stop sulking!”

“I don’t sulk!” Daichi growled as he refilled the spoons tray. “I’d just appreciate some help working today!”

“Nah, you’re pissed at us because we’re right, ain’t that so, Yacchan?”

“Hmm?” She looked up, startled, no doubt not wanting to involve herself in an argument.

“We just saw Fate in action,” Kuroo said breezily. “They’ll be no separating them now. Perfect couple.” He held his hand to his heart. “Gives me the warm and fuzzies just thinkin’ about it.”

“There’s no such thing!” Daichi stormed. “Soul mates are ... they don’t exist, Kuroo! It’s just another bloody excuse for crappy romantic movies, shitty plots in novels and pedalling out the same line that love is all you need.”

Yachi blanched. She took a step back, then swallowed, and tried a tentative smile. “Um ... Daichi-san, don’t you th-think it’s nice that Suga-san and Yaku-san have met. Th-they seem so perfect for each other.”

“What? Because they want to live in a house of chilli?”

“Well ... uh ... it’s kind of hard to fight that,” she whispered. “Not that I’d want to live there, but it’s sort of ... you know, great that they have the same dream.”

“It ain’t just the chilli,” Kuroo put in. “Neither can decide on their favourite coffee, but both choose the poppy seed lemon drizzle muffins. It’s Fate, Sawamura, accept it.”

Throwing his hands (and accidentally a set of paper serviettes he’d meant to restock) into the air, Daichi almost cried with frustration. There was no getting through to them. Even if he suspected that Kuroo was only saying all this to wind him up, there was absolutely no point in arguing because nothing would change their mindset, and it would only make things worse.

But Sawamura Daichi had never been good at listening to the inner voice telling him to stop.

“So, basically, they can both give up because they’ve found each other and everything will be rosy. Or if it isn’t, if one of them’s an absolute arsehole, then the other has to put up with it because of some stupid fucking red string tying them together!”

With a side-glance at Yachi, Kuroo placed a hand on Daichi’s shoulder. He lowered his voice. “You’re just mad ‘cause you didn’t ask him out first,” he muttered. “Someone’s now got there before you.”

“You don’t actually believe in this, either, do you?” Daichi seethed. “You’re just saying it all to piss me off. Well done, Kuroo, you managed it!”

Kuroo shrugged, holding his palms face up. “Hey, it was Sugawara who decided to stay inside for his coffee. He never does that in the mornings. That’s what I call Destiny.”

“Excuse me?”

They both turned and Daichi felt his face flame into red as Suga stood at the counter.

“Kanye, how can I help?” Kuroo asked.

“Not Kanye, either, Kuroo,” Suga said, laughing a touch wearily. He placed something on the counter. “Yaku-san left his phone on the table. Can I leave it with you?”

“Uh ... sure,” Kuroo said, and took a step closer. Then he nudged the phone back to Suga. “Don’t you want to take it round to him? Like, you know where he works, don’t ya?”

Suga frowned, his eyebrows almost meeting in the centre of his brow. “Um, why would I do that? He’s likely to come back here when he realises, isn’t he?”

“Uh ... yeah, I guess so,” Kuroo muttered. He took the phone tentatively, as if ... as if by picking it up he was somehow breaking a connection. Or a thread. “Yaks comes in every Monday, you know.”

“Mmm, he said,” Suga replied vaguely. His eyes flicked to the menu, and then to Daichi. “I fancy another coffee to take out. Tell me, what do you like?”

“Uh ... I kind of like ... um ...” He gulped, wondering whether to make something up. But under Suga’s gentle gaze, he wilted. “I prefer tea, actually. Or hot chocolate.”

Laughing Suga leant across the counter. “Me, too. I doubt I’m supposed to say that in a coffee shop, though. That’s why I’ve never found a ‘usual’. But, hmm, give me a large cup of black tea, milk, no sugar.”

 _Just how I like it,_ Daichi thought, and smiled to himself as he pushed the paper cup under the hot water tap.

“S-soul mates!” Yachi cried.

“Huh?” Suga grinned at her. “Nah, I don’t believe in all of that, Yacchan.  I think you either like someone or you don’t. Sometimes it might take a bit of time to click, and then even more time to make it work, but it’s ... I think it’s worth it if it’s someone you _really_ like.

“Anyway,” he said, raising his hand as he turned to leave. “I really should be going.”

He got to the door, leaving the three of them dumbstruck, and then he looked over his shoulder. “By the way, Kuroo, Destiny had nothing to do with my decision to drink my coffee in here today.”

“Huh?”

With a wink and a laugh, Suga encompassed them all with his smile, resting finally on Daichi. “Your staff rota changed. That was all.”


End file.
